


Time Runs Like The River Current

by CosmoKid



Series: Aurora's Colors [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Childhood Memories, Claudia Stilinski Feels, Emotionally Hurt Stiles Stilinski, Gen, Loki is Stiles' Godfather, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Prelude, The Hale Fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 08:15:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15725493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmoKid/pseuds/CosmoKid
Summary: The first time he meets his Godfather, all he remembers is bright lights and smiling eyes.Or in which Stiles recounts his childhood as the Godson of Loki.





	Time Runs Like The River Current

**Author's Note:**

> i just felt like writing more in this universe so here  
> title is apparently from a faroese proverb. i wont say for certain because im definitely not proficient in faroese proverbs.
> 
>  
> 
> this is like a prelude to mischief and malice

The first time he meets his Godfather, all he remembers is bright lights and smiling eyes. He thinks the lights might have been tinted green, but he has no real reason for the thought. It just makes sense in his mind.

He has no one to ask, neither of his parents even knew it happened. It was before his Dad accepted that he’d married into a possibly cursed, possibly blessed family, and even though his Mom had grown up with the stories, she still hadn't believed it until three-year-old Stiles teleported. His Dad still hadn’t believed it until the God in question appeared in the garden when five-year-old Stiles was using illusions to avoid eating his vegetables. 

His Dad wasn’t amused when his Godfather was amused by Stiles’ antics and that set a precedent for all future interactions between the two of them. Still, his Godfather had been serious for long enough to offer to train Stiles when able, to help them understand how to deal with Stiles, and to cover up any mishaps.

The last was especially useful when Stiles teleported on the third day of middle school to avoid Jackson Whittemore punching him. He’s still not sure what Jackson thought happened that day, but Stiles had gotten an extra long lesson on vanishing illusions and trickery for it.

Throughout the various visits, trips, and lessons, he got into the habit of throwing something at his Godfather to make sure he was real and not an illusion. It began with a shoe and no matter what object he used, he was rarely on aim. But hey, when Stiles first met his God-Uncle, he found it hilarious and threw an extra shoe at his brother.

It was the kick off for an interesting friendship despite them rarely talking. His God-Uncle is just fun and although he’s a bit of a hothead, he turned out to be the perfect guy to watch chick flicks with. He only met his God-Grandma (Jesus, this is way too complicated) once, but she seems nice if that’s the word. He doesn’t really remember much anyway. He never met her husband and from the few things he gathered from talking to his Godfather, he has the feeling that he wouldn’t be welcome in his company, even if he hadn’t been majorly influenced by his Godfather.

There was something about spending time with his Godfather and co that separated Stiles from the other kids even without having magic. At every parent-teacher conference, his teachers would comment about how Stiles had wisdom beyond his years or how unique he was in that he could never just accept a villain who was evil by nature. His third-grade teacher was especially impressed, to the point that she suggested Stiles skip a grade. It was on his Dad’s advice that he didn’t take the opportunity despite his Mom being all for it. He needed to bond with kids age and he could never leave Scott behind.

Scott was (and still is) naive and trusting; it would be easy for the likes of Jackson or Lydia Martin to take advantage of him. Stiles had vowed to protect him and he was never breaking it. Scott was just a good kid. He was the type to never consider that his Godfather was nothing more than his Mom’s friend and a good guy.

Loki isn’t a bad guy, but he’s not a good guy either. He’s chaos. What he lacks in a moral compass, he also lacks in an immoral compass. Stiles has never known what kind of guy Loki was, he was always just Loki. Even now, he's just Loki.

* * *

He was 12 years old when he learned that the world could bend around him. He’d been messing around with Scott when Jackson had decided to pick on him. It’d lead to a scuffle and Stiles being pushed out of a window as he tried to refrain himself from doing permanent damage. The blame for it was probably split three ways between them, but that wasn’t how the principal saw it, or rather how Jackson’s parents saw it. Stiles had no concrete proof that Jackson’s parents had bribed the school, but the extension on the science block and lack of punishment for Jackson was a pretty easy connect the dots. The rage Stiles felt at it was almost unmatched; he was just so angry. _It wasn’t fair._ Jackson had _everything_. Every thought in Stiles’ mind was full of fury at the kid. He hadn’t voiced any of it; it’s not like he’d specifically asked for Mrs. Whittemore to lose her massive case two days later, but it happened.

It’s never been confirmed if it was his Godfather or a perk of being the Godchild of an actual God or just a coincidence. Loki had never interfered _that_ much, but he was certainly capable of doing so. Stiles felt awful about it either way, but there was a tiny part of him that enjoyed the indirect revenge. It was like a thrill and still, it was a part of him that he tried to silence after the incident.

* * *

Four weeks later, his Dad got a call about the Hale house burning down. 

His first instinct was to try and save them. He had to. He’d teleported across town to the nearest he could get to the Hale house based on his memories and past experiences. It was near enough that he could run to it even while inhaling thick smoke. By the time he got there, the house had nearly burnt down with the only parts not covered with fire being charred. Looking at it, he knew he needed to help, but when he tried to reach for his powers so he could do something, they were gone.

It took him trying to run into the house and save them without powers for him to learn why they were gone. Just before he got to the only unburnt door, the world around him shifted and he ran straight into an invisible wall like a dog into a glass door.

“Stiles,” his Godfather greeted before Stiles could even turn around into whatever half-dimeson he was in.

There was a part of him that wanted to throw something at him because it’s what they do, but he was far too panicked and stressed to even consciously remember what made him want to do it. “Why? Why can’t I help?”

He turned around to meet Loki’s gaze as he spoke in a desperate voice. Loki just shook his head. “There are times where you can’t save people.”

“But,” he started, wetting his lips. He couldn’t even think. “But there are, there are children! Cora’s in my class, she’s my age, and she’s in there. There are children in there!”

“There were children in there,” Loki said gently, stepping forward to wrap one arm around Stiles’ shoulder. “They’re gone, Stiles. I’m sorry. There’s nothing to be done.”

“No, no, I _have_ to do something! There must be something I can do,” he pleaded in a broken voice. He knew Loki was right; he wouldn’t lie about something like this.

He just didn’t want to accept it. 

“There isn’t, Kjetil. Sometimes tragic things happen to people and you can't save them,” Loki told him, pulling Stiles into a hug as he let out a sob. “I know, my child, I know.”

* * *

His Mom died two years later and it’s a moment where he felt the weight of his Godfather’s words. 

He didn’t show up at the funeral, but he sat with Stiles for hours later. They didn’t speak much, but it was more comforting than anything anyone else tried. Words could never replace his Mom and they certainly didn’t make him feel better. Telling him she’s in a better place didn’t make it fair or easier. His Mom was dead. That’s it. His Godfather didn’t beat around the bush like the others. He seemed to be the only other person actually aware that his Mom wasn’t coming back and also the only one interested in making sure Stiles was okay.

And still, he disappeared a month later, without a word. Stiles forced himself to learn to live without him. He learned to live without anyone as his Dad retreated into alcoholism and Scott’s Mom began to take more shifts at work so Stiles couldn’t even retreat there since Scott’s babysitter hated him.

Six months later, his Dad got sober, but Stiles doesn’t need him to be anymore. He could pay bills, he could cook, he could clean, and he had all his feelings shoved so far down they’re not coming out until Stiles manages to himself. He was completely independent and his powers became the last thing on his mind as he checked out recipe books from the library and figured out where the best place to buy groceries is. 

Things got easier when he started to believe he was a normal kid. He played video games with Scott, completed his homework during seven-hour sprees of productivity, and joined the lacrosse team. He’s never been good, but Scott wanted to do it and he wasn’t about to leave Scott alone with Jackson. All in all, things were okay.

* * *

When half a body was found in the preserve, Stiles _had_ to check it out. He pretended it was for fun or something, but in reality, he wanted to make sure it wasn’t something quite literally out of this world. 

It was a useless errand anyway, he didn’t find the body and all that came out of it was a werewolf Scott which was not something Stiles had ever prepared for it and it was still something in this world.

Werewolves exist, he already knew that, but dealing with them was not something he knew. So he did a classic Stiles thing and went on a research binge so he could help his best friend. It took way too long to get Scott to work with him, but like always, he made it work the best he could. It’s what he does.

He didn’t even think about using his powers until they were trapped in the school. He was panicking and he was terrified. The only person who could remotely help was probably dead and that left what? A rookie werewolf with no control or sense, an unaware hunter heiress, the only slightly useless captain of the lacrosse team, a beautiful genius whose abilities were admittedly futile in that situation, and him. By logic alone, he was the one who should have done something. He's the Godson of Loki for Thor's sake!

So he tried. He reached for his powers and nothing. There was nothing there.

He’d never felt so useless. It was agonizing. And then it relegated him to the useless human and that label was impossible to shake. He’s not a werewolf or a hunter or fluent in a useful dead language even if he’s fluent in any Scandinavian language by his nature. There was nothing for him to do but flail around and be blamed.

It got a little better when he found proficiency in mountain ash even if he got the feeling that Deaton _knew_. It ended up being a futile attempt anyway which seems to be a running theme in his life. 

By the time he’s kidnapped off the lacrosse team after winning the game, he’s beginning to wonder if the person he can’t save is himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :)
> 
>  
> 
> come scream with me on [tumblr](https://cosmo-k-i-d.tumblr.com/)  
> 


End file.
